Guise of the Wolf
by Perfect Carnage
Summary: This was originally written for a school project. Since no one had played Skyrim, I wasn't kicked out. After a horrific attack on the village of Riverwood, it is up to Hadvar to hunt down the beast responsible for the tragedy. In his quest to find answers, he comes to the discovery that all is not what it seems, and that some will do anything to keep their secrets buried.


The change was complete and the werewolf howled in joy at its freedom. Met with the returning howls of its brothers it breathed in the sweet night air and took a moment to enjoy the aromas wafting through the night. Of course there were more important tasks at hand, the satisfying of its hunger being prime among them.

But where to find food? When it was still a man it would have gone to an inn and bought a meal of cooked beef or rabbit, eating it to the song of the local bards. Tonight though, the only meat that interested it was human or any of the other intelligent races if they were available. With its mouth-watering at the memory of sweet High Elven flesh, the werewolf turned to the village it saw in the distance and sprinted towards it.

As it neared the settlement the werewolf steadily slowed down until it was running at normal speeds. Standing under the arch that was built over the road leading into town it noticed that something was off. Normally guards would be patrolling the streets and manning the towers, but for some reason there weren't any guards in town. Smelling the air proved this and secure in the knowledge that it would not have to battle for food, the werewolf strolled into town.

Walking down the street the werewolf tried to remember what it knew about the different inhabitants of the village. The first house it came to belonged to Sven and his mother. As a human he had never taken the time to learn her name as he had no business with her, and for the most part she was very rude. It also recalled that Sven also disliked his mother and often spoke of moving out.

_Of course, that won't be necessary_, the werewolf thought as it stepped in front of the door. Unsheathing its claws the werewolf opened the door and stepped into the house. Inside the house was a fireplace, a table with food on it and other things that it didn't care to note. The only thing it did care about was the elderly woman sleeping on one of the beds. Grinning to itself the werewolf took her head between its paws and quickly and silently snapped her neck, then bit into her body, teeth penetrating deep into the skin before ripping out the flesh.

After it had finished its meal the werewolf left her corpse lying on the blood-stained bed and exited the house. Standing on the cobblestones the werewolf walked up the road to the next house leaving a trail of blood behind him.

The next house that it came to was the one that belonged to the blacksmith and his wife. Striding up to their door full of confidence the werewolf placed one of its paws one the knob and turned.

But the door refused to open and trying again had the same result. Eyes widening in fury the werewolf curled its hand into a fist and banged on the door, shaking the wood. Infuriated at being denied a meal the werewolf mimicked the sound it had always made during times of rage:

**FUS RO DAH!**

The door was no match for the mighty Thu'um and was blown off of its hinges, flying across the room and slamming into the wall; now thoroughly enraged the werewolf stepped into the vacant doorway, claws out and baring its teeth.

Hadvar had been living with his uncle Alvor and his wife Sigrid until he was ready to re-join the Imperial Legion. And he had done so just before the battle of Whiterun, fighting alongside the already legendary Dragonborn to protect the city from the Stormcloaks. He had returned to Riverwood after the battle for some rest until the next part of their campaign to reunite Skyrim.

He was having supper with his aunt and uncle when he heard a rattling sound coming from the door. Pausing from his meal he continued to listen as the sound grew louder and louder and then he saw that the doorknob was turning back and forth. Drawing his sword Hadvar slowly approached the door just as whatever was making the noise began banging against the door. When he was standing directly in front of the door it suddenly exploded inwards and he tried to dive out of the way but was still knocked against the wall by the door.

Hadvar was dazed and disorientated, the door lying on top of him and preventing him from easily moving. Struggling to pull himself out from under the door, Hadvar looked at the direction of whatever had blown the door off of its hinges and saw something that momentarily caused his heart to stop.

Standing in the doorway was a large figure, silhouetted by the light of the full moons. The figure had bright yellow eyes and long teeth and claws and appeared to be covered in….Fur? The realization of what he was seeing hitting him like a sack of bricks, Hadvar tried to scream out a warning but all that came out was a cough.

The figure stepped into the room and bared its teeth in a show of aggression. Alvor quickly realizing what he was up against readied his warhammer and brought it up over his head for maximum damage potential.

"Die monster!" he shouted as he began to bring his hammer down.

Before he could bring it down however, the werewolf backhanded him onto the floor and jumping on top of him before he could get up, digging its teeth into his throat and pulling them out, ripping out his throat and sending blood flying through the air.

Sigrid screamed and backed away from the monster and her husband's corpse. Tears streamed down her face and she began sobbing uncontrollably. But there was to be no reprieve from the horror, as the werewolf slashed open her dress and her stomach with one swipe of its claws. Falling back the last thing she saw was the werewolf licking its lips.

Hadvar rose up from the wreckage of the door, eyes blazing with hatred and righteous fury. With a battlecry he rushed at his foe, sword prepared to meet flesh. The werewolf, done feeding on Sigrid's corpse, turned and saw Hadvar rushing at it, heard his scream and decided that food could be found elsewhere.

Sidestepping Hadvar, the werewolf leaped over the table and across the room. Without looking back it ran across the street and came to a stop in front of the Riverwood Trader. Pushing the door open it saw Camilla Valerius busy cleaning the shop and Lucan behind the counter, counting coins and taking stock of his inventory.

Not wasting any time the werewolf ran to Camilla and picked her up, and began squeezing her head between its paws.

Screaming in pain she began kicking and struggling against it but it wouldn't budge; it wouldn't let go. Finally her head was torn off and an eruption of blood and gore burst forth from her neck as her body fell to the floor. The blood pooled around her body and the werewolf bent down to lap it up.

Lucan looked at the scene playing out in front of him as if he observing from a distance; it had all happened so fast, the creature bursting into his store, picking up his sister and then….. And then…

The realization of what had happened striking like a thunderbolt, Lucan screamed out in fury and paying no heed to the words of warning shouted by Hadvar, charged full speed at his sister's murderer, steel dagger in hand, ready to avenge her.

The werewolf paused from its feeding and looked at the screaming shopkeeper. After a moment of assessing the threat it rose from its meal and licked off some of the blood around its mouth. When Lucan was within striking distance of it the werewolf's arm shot out and caught him; then flung him against the back wall.

Lucan's face met the stone wall at dizzying speed and the rest of his body soon followed. His nose was broken and his body was at an uncomfortable angle but at least he was still alive. With streams of blood running down his face he tried getting up but his muscles felt like jelly. Before he could pull himself up he felt a blinding pain in his back, and then he felt nothing at all.

Hadvar watched in horror as the werewolf raked its claws along Lucan's back, tearing open the skin and spraying blood and flesh in the air. When it was done the werewolf howled in satisfaction and bent down over the body; biting out chunks of meat and devouring them.

Hadvar rushed out of the store and across the bridge leading to Whiterun, his last shred of courage vanishing at the sound of the werewolf's howl.

Waking up the next morning in a warm bed instead of a pile of brambles as he'd expected Hadvar rose out of bed and staggered out of the room; still tired from the night before. As he opened the door he was greeted by a red haired woman.

"Good, you're finally awake. The names Hulda and I'm the owner of this inn, the Bannered Mare."

"How did I get here? The last thing I remember was…." he trailed off as he tried to remember exactly what had happened the night before.

"You burst in late last night as pale as a ghost. You seemed to be really shaken up by something. When I asked you what happened you said something about an attack and then you passed out-

An attack? The only thing he remembered from last night was having cooked beef and baked potatoes for supper, with some ale to wash it down. He had gone down to the basement to get some more ale when he heard a scream from upstairs. Rushing up the stairs he saw a large silhouette standing in the door, a distinctly lupine silhouette.

A sudden stream of images appeared before his mind's eye: The werewolf knocking his uncle Alvor to the floor just before he could strike it with his warhammer and then tearing his throat out, Aunt Sigrid trying to escape but the werewolf throwing a chair at her and before she could get up leaping on her and savaging her body. Camilla Valerius's lifeless eyes staring at him as her head rolled along the floor and then Lucan Valerius being eaten.

- Sinmir and Mikael carried you into this room and helped you into bed."

"Thank you for your hospitality… Hulda. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go" Hadvar said as he put 10 septims into Hulda's hand. Leaving the inn, he found himself on the streets of Whiterun. Taking a deep breath he wondered what he should do next. He would have to go back to Riverwood and see if anyone else had survived the attack; that was a given. But before then he had to report what had happened to the Jarl and ask for new guards to be stationed in Riverwood.

With this plan in mind Hadvar made his way to Dragonsreach, ignoring the cries of the street vendors, the requests for gold from a drunken beggar and the loud preaching of a priest of Talos on the way. Upon entering the palace he saw that the Jarl was not on his throne. Walking up to his steward, he asked:

"Excuse me, I'm looking for the Jarl. I have some very important news for him concerning Riverwood."

"The Jarl is upstairs and involved in a very important discussion with the court wizard. I'm afraid you'll have to wait until they are done." said Proventus

"I'm sorry but I can't do that; something terrible has happened and the Jarl must be informed immediately."

Hadvar walked away from the steward and climbed the stairs to the second level of the palace. He saw the Jarl speaking in frantic but hushed tones to his wizard, Farengar Secret-Fire. When they saw him approaching they halted their conservation immediately.

"Hadvar, what are you doing here? Is there trouble in Riverwood?" asked Jarl Balgruuf.

"I'm afraid there is or rather, was trouble. Last night a werewolf attacked Riverwood. I do not know if there are any survivors. I request that guards be garrisoned in Riverwood in case the beast returns."

"Of course Hadvar, if this beast attacks again more people could-"

"I'm afraid that can't be done my Jarl. As I was telling you before this soldier interrupted our conversation, we can't afford to spare any men. As horrendous as this werewolf attack was the consequences we could expect if we have too few guards would be far worse" interrupted Farengar.

"And what exactly would be worse than a werewolf attack, wizard? Why would not having a few extra men guarding the city matter?"

"That is none of your concern Hadvar. Unfortunately Farengar is right, we can't spare the men. Until we can you're on your own. Now please leave us." said the Jarl.

Hadvar stared at the pair and then turned away and left the room. As he walked back down the stairs he vowed to do everything in his power to bring the werewolf to justice, even if that meant killing it himself.

Exiting the palace he wondered what to do. Should he hire the Companions to track down kill the beast? Should he go to the mages up north in Winterhold for help? Or was there some way to find out the identity of the creature?

With these thoughts and more tumbling through his mind Hadvar left Dragonsreach behind him.


End file.
